All the Time in the World
by minachandler
Summary: Set during the first morning of their road trip. Now they're together, away from Starling City and unhampered by the past barriers in their relationship, Oliver and Felicity revel in their newfound laziness. (In the shower. Naturally.) Smut.


"Oliver," Felicity called, and she couldn't help but feel amused when she immediately heard the shuffling of clothing and soft thuds as feet touched the floor from the bedroom. She pulled back the shower curtain, shaking her head a little and causing her wet hair to spray onto the shower wall.

"Yeah?" Oliver called back, and seconds later, he was at the doorway of the bathroom. She laughed at his expression when he realised she was naked, and after a moment, he averted his eyes and she could see him smile faintly. Oliver was only wearing his boxers himself, and through the steam, she could tell from the way his torso was curved inwards slightly that he was still sleepy.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't wake you," she said, but he shook his head.

"No, you didn't," he replied, and though he was trying to be nonchalant, she realised he looked troubled.

She figured he probably didn't want to talk about it, though - not this early, and not when they had hours upon hours of times to talk about anything and everything. And Felicity had known Oliver long enough to know that he would open up to her when he was ready to. So, instead, she said, "I think I left my conditioner in my bag - do you mind getting it for me?"

Even without her glasses, and with the warm mist clouding her vision, she could see the relief in his eyes when she didn't push him. She was gratified by the return of his easy smile.

"Sure," he replied, and when he returned with the bottle a minute later, he tentatively stepped inside the bathroom this time. Felicity watched as he stepped towards her, feet bare. There was something softer about his features, the way his eyes were still hooded with sleepiness and his scruff seemed darker, more pronounced. When he reached her, she raised her eyebrows, because for some reason, he kept a careful distance between them, outstretching his hand with the bottle.

She couldn't help but tug at his arm and pull him against her, causing him to drop the bottle to the floor with a loud clatter, but she was too busy kissing him to care. Immediately, her nipples stiffened as they came into contact with his skin, and even when she was in the shower, where the floor was raised a fair amount, he was still taller than her. She could feel him smile in surprise before he kissed her back, and there was something so languid and leisurely about the way he ran his hands up and down her back. Maybe it was because they both knew they could take their time, that there was nothing and no one stopping them from savouring every beautiful moment together.

"Thanks," she said, and she moved away from him to reach for the conditioner at his feet, pretending not to notice the heaviness of his breathing or the hunger suddenly in his eyes. When she straightened, she looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the moisture that had formed in droplets on his chest and had dampened his underwear - whether from the steam or from her own wet body or something else, she didn't know. Oliver looked down at himself and seemed to realise this too, and Felicity just smiled sweetly as she opened the bottle, about to apply her conditioner.

"May I?" She didn't know what surprised her more - the fact that he had basically just asked to get into the shower with her or that he was offering to condition her hair. There was a - politeness she didn't expect to see in Oliver's eyes as he watched her hopefully. And suddenly, there was a thick, pleasant heat in the air that had nothing to do with the steam that made it difficult for her to speak, so she nodded and handed him the bottle before turning round.

She could hear him stepping into the shower behind her, and she tilted her head back expectantly. His fingers were exceedingly gentle as he worked the conditioner through her hair, careful not to touch her scalp. Slowly, Felicity raised her head, and her hands instinctively went to her hair, where her fingertips tangled with Oliver's. And then she felt his soapy hands make the softest pop against her skin when they grasped her shoulders and turned her round to face him.

"You okay?" she asked, her hand on his cheek and rubbing against stubble. He caught her hand, squeezing it and closing his eyes.

"Bad dream," he admitted after a moment.

"Ra's al Ghul bad, you mean?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, I guess being in the League of Assassins has left marks I won't be able to get rid of easily."

"Or at all," she said, and her hand automatically slid down to the brand of the arrowhead on his back. The skin there was burned, rough, and even now, it still made her wince to touch it. That mark would forever be a reminder of everything he had been through with the League. Even though she knew Oliver had not only defeated Ra's but come out of the other side relatively unscathed, it hurt her inside knowing that he was still in pain now.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "I've been through worse."

"You know that doesn't make me feel any better, right?"

"Sorry," he said, bowing his head a little, and Felicity immediately placed her finger under his chin so their eyes met.

"You don't have to apologise," she told him firmly. "Not for that. Not to me."

Oliver smiled, then, reaching up to turn the curtain, enclosing them into an even smaller space together. She switched on the shower and they traded places so she was directly underneath the spray of water and Oliver was behind her, fingers tangling through her hair and getting rid of the soapsuds. He took his time, taking care to wash out the conditioner thoroughly, but when she could feel his hard-on brush against the back of her thigh, she couldn't stop turning to him and tiptoeing to kiss his lips, hands on the back of his neck to bring his face closer to hers. What little was left of his hair was already wet, and she could taste water when she kissed him, loving the sensation of his damp scruff on her cheeks.

Already, she felt the familiar ache for him between her legs, and when his palms were wet on her back, his tongue licking the hollow of her throat, she sighed, revelling in the novelty of his damp skin as it pressed against hers. And then his mouth moved down to her breast and he tweaked her nipple with his tongue and then gently with his teeth, making her gasp, the rough prickle of his stubble burning through her skin.

But nothing could have prepared her for when, unbidden, he slipped a finger inside her while his mouth was still at work on her breast at the same time, and Felicity was grateful for the support of the cold shower wall behind her. "Oliver…" she murmured, and he kept going, adding a second finger and moving his mouth to her other breast. And all the while, she could feel his hardness pushing against her knee as the water from the shower continued to spray on them, which only increased her arousal tenfold.

And when he looked up at her, fingertips moving rhythmically in her centre, Felicity could see his lips were swollen in his smile and he was almost as breathless as her.

"Felicity…" he whispered, elongating the last syllable of her name in a way that made her heart thump even faster.

"Oliver," she moaned, whimpering when he withdrew a little, and she could see his eyes darken as they met hers.

"You are so fucking hot," he ground out, and she didn't know what was more arousing - the low, gravelly quality his voice suddenly took or the hard consonance of an epithet she couldn't remember him ever using with her before.

She cried out when he thrust his fingers inside again, even deeper, and his arm was wrapped around her waist, bearing most of her weight as she buried her face into his shoulder. Moments later, she came, leaning on Oliver's chest and feeling such a high that her legs collapsed beneath her and she would have slipped if it weren't for Oliver still supporting her. Still gasping, she pressed kisses across the plane of his chest until she could feel his heartbeat thumping beneath her mouth.

She looked up and met his eyes, and he loosened his grip on her waist and smiled back, blinking prettily.

"Feeling better?" she asked unnecessarily. He kissed her instead of answering immediately, keeping his forehead close to hers, his eyes still that blazing shade of blue that she found impossible to look away from.

"I always do when I'm with you," he said, and she delighted in the sincerity of his words.

"That makes two of us," she said, cupping his cheek and returning his kiss.

She found herself pushing at his chest until, this time, his back was pressed against the shower wall. His expression was one of surprise and faint amusement as she did so, but he nevertheless looked down at her expectantly and bent his knees a little when she tiptoed to kiss him. She felt him shiver beneath her caresses and could hear his sigh and sharp intake of breath against her mouth when her fingers teased his right nipple, while her other hand brushed against that brand on his back again.

He was still wearing his boxers and they were soaked through, heavy from the shower water when she pulled them down. She kneeled down and he looked at her intensely, not taking his eyes off her as he obediently lifted each foot and stepped out of his underwear.

Felicity reached up, wrapping her hand around his erection, her thumb collecting the droplets that had formed at its tip. Her eyes were still watching his and she delighted in how they widened when she put her thumb in her mouth. Suddenly, his hands were deep in her hair again, just as she pressed a kiss on his erection, and she delighted in the groan that escaped from him at that. Already, her knees were starting to ache from her position but she didn't stop, taking him in her mouth and immediately feeling his legs buckle a little. Her tongue went up and down his length, and she could tell he was holding back, trying not to thrust in her mouth. She reached up, tightly gripping his hip with one hand and sucking a little harder, the water from the shower still raining down on them both.

Oliver rocked his hips now, and any semblance of control seemed to disappear when he hissed words she didn't understand – was it Russian? – but it didn't matter because him growling her name and his hands fisting in her hair didn't need translation.

"Felicity, I – I'm going to –" he managed to get out, and before she could object, he withdrew from her mouth and pulled her to her feet while she was still cupping him, and seconds later he came with a prolonged groan in her hand, the evidence of his pleasure stickily covering her fingers. "Felicity," he muttered, "God, Felicity…"

She reached up, then, and kissed him soundly, the water feeling warm on her hair and sluicing over her body. "I love you too, Oliver," she whispered back, and the sight of him, so undone, spent, was enough to elicit a fresh wave of desire over her which went up and down her spine and pounded in her gut. Felicity looked up at him, lowering her hand to satiate the throb between her thighs. Her eyes were still on him, though, as she pressed one finger inside herself and let out an involuntary moan as some of the pressure inside her walls was released at her touch.

Closing her eyes, she half-expected his kiss, but then she felt his hand push her finger a little deeper inside and they both groaned at the same time. Felicity reached down and laughed in his mouth – he was hard for her again, already, and she moved his hand away, lifting her own so she could turn off the shower. She put her arms around his neck, allowing him to lift her and press her against the wall. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was holding her by the thighs, once again supporting all her weight as he entered her – slower than before, much slower – and once he was inside her, he let out a long breath before his lips were grazing her skin, planting wet kisses down the side of her neck. She held onto him, arching her back and delighting when that alone caused him to halt in his kisses and murmur her name again.

Felicity's back should have started aching by now, but Oliver was still supporting her, grunting with the effort, and she knew he had learnt her cues, knew when she was teetering just over the edge (like now) but would hold back just enough for her to feel the tortuous pleasure of him withdrawing from her only to enter her again.

"Oliver," she moaned when he was inside her once more.

"Felicity…"

"God, I love the way you say my name," she said, only realising once the words left her mouth that she had said the words out loud, but the smile that graced his lips even as he gripped her hips tighter took away any embarrassment she might have felt.

"I love saying it too," he replied, just as her hands slid down his back and her nails contracted, piercing his skin and making him press his face on her shoulder. "Felicity –"

He went faster, and Felicity could feel her blood pounding in her ears, the clear blue of his eyes the only thing she could make out as her vision blurred. She clung to Oliver, the backs of her legs numb and aching now, but she forgot everything when she was lost in the euphoria of her climax, sweat forming on her forehead. She watched as he closed his eyes, still reverently whispering her name as though it was a prayer, and then he came with a soft pant, gracing her lips with the barest kiss.

"I love you," he told her quietly, as her feet finally hit the floor. She swayed a little, not quite getting her balance the first time, but he caught her before she could slip, and they both laughed.

Felicity sighed. "I don't think I will ever get tired of you saying that."

"That makes two of us," said Oliver, and his eyes lit up in a smile so bright that it warmed her own heart, because she knew, despite whatever kept him up at night, that he was happy just being with her, enjoying whatever it was that was blossoming between them, knowing that they had all the time in the world.


End file.
